Ticklish, Much?
by AdamaGirl
Summary: Laura Roslin knows that her man has to be ticklish... somewhere...


_**Discloseure: I do not own BSG, or any of its characters, yet they live on in my heart. SO SAY WE ALL!**_

 **COLONIAL ONE**

"You need your rest, Laura."

She continued to pace as he watched from the small seating area in her private quarters. A stack of files containing supply reports sat on the small table in front of him, along with two abandoned glasses of water.

There was too much to do... managing the crews of two warships... monetary issues and the black market...

Oh, and a little thing like the upcoming election!

"I'm fine, Bill. Really."

"A month ago you were laying on this very... what is this, a love seat?" he questioned rhetorically. "Laura... you were dying of cancer. Excuse me for being concerned."

She turned around to face him. Saw the care in his eyes. It struck her direct in the heart.

Perhaps the needs of Fleet could wait a bit.

They'd slowly grown closer since their first kiss after she'd made him Admiral. Since her miracle cure. Since each crisis after the next. They'd talked more and more. Shared meals. And a few more kisses, here and there, along the way.

Were they back in the Colonies, without threat of Cylon attacks, one might've said they were dating. But as reality was, there was little time for such luxuries. Only moments taken when opportunity presented itself.

Bill moved the files, patted the seat beside him. Once she was seated, he pulled her legs across his lap and slipped off her shoes.

"Remember this?"

Laura hummed pleasurably, as he began rubbing her feet.

"Kobol. I was tired and cold. You made me feel better that night."

"Remember what else happened under that leaky tarp?"

"Mmm-hmmm," she replied naughtily.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Roslin. You know we were both in no frakking condition to-"

"Frak?"

Bill laughed, warm and deep. "Yeah. But I do seem to recall one other way I got under your skin."

Laura sobered instantly. "No, Bill. You wouldn't."

"Yes."

"You are NOT tickling me," she warned with narrowed eyes. "Maybe in your quarters, but not here on... oh my Gods!"

He'd switched positions on her. Began straddling her on the small sofa-like piece of furniture that also doubled at night for her bed. Playfully grinning, he went for the hem of her shirt which had been tucked neatly into her pants.

"It was an honest accident that night," he told her while undoing the lower buttons of the silk garment. "We were cuddled up for warmth only. I didn't mean to touch you like that."

Laura rolled her eyes, despite her enjoyment of their shared memory.

"Had I known earlier you were so sensitive, maybe I wouldn't have called my men on you. Back when we had our little disagreement."

Laura tried not to smile as his hands fell to her exposed middle. They were warm, and deliciously calloused. "Our 'little disagreement'?" she repeated. "You mean, when you had me thrown in Galactica's brig?"

"You went against me then, just like you're trying to now. Only this time, it's by working yourself too hard."

"Says the big man, looming over the recovering cancer patient."

She tried swatting his hands away, but he began his sweet torture of her. Slowly circling his fingers around her navel. Along her lower ribs. Making her squirm and giggle.

"Do you give, Laura Roslin?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm the frakking President of the Twelve Colonies, and I outrank you, Admiral Adama."

"Not if I declare a military coup."

Tears from repressed laughter streamed from Laura's tightly closed eyes, as Bill continued his full-on tickle play. A good ten minutes passed. She could feel herself turning several shades of pink, and knew just how much he was enjoying himself.

"Bill, please..."

"You have three options, Madame President. Rest, tickle, or coup. You have five seconds to decide."

At that, Laura's entire security force, followed by several black-suited Colonial Marines, two Raptor pilots, and one very embarrassed Captain Kara Thrace, burst into her small private quarters.

Billy Keikeya followed closely on the officer's heels. "It's like the admiral has gone crazy!" he all but barked at Starbuck. "I heard Roslin crying, so I came running back here. And then... Adama was talking about staging another coup on her office! It's like his position of power has gone to his head. At best, he's bullying the president. And in her weakened state!"

"Are you, Boss?" Kara all-but choked. "Bullying, President Roslin?"

Two very red-faced adults looked up at the mob before them.

Bill moved off Laura. She, in turn, righted her clothing and presented herself as the dignified leader she was.

"No," replied the admiral.

"It was all a very big misunderstanding," added the president. "Thank you, Captain Thrace. Mr. Keikeya. Everyone. You're all dismissed- except for you, Billy."

"And you, Kara."

Amidst grumbled sighs, the crowd retreated, leaving behind the young man and woman in question, to face their superiors in private.

Billy hung his head. Kara bit the inside of her cheek.

"Not a word of this gets out. I mean it, Billy," Laura warned. "Get everyone here to sign confidentiality agreements before they leave this ship."

"Yes, ma'am."

Bill stood, facing his almost-daughter. "What do you hear, Starbuck?"

She cracked a smile, then saluted. "Absolutely nothing, sir!"

Laura nodded. "Good. You're both, fully dismissed."

Once they were sure they were alone, and only then, did the couple finally let go of their shared embarrassment. Laughing until it hurt, they embraced on the sofa.

"I'll make you pay for this, Bill Adama. One day."

He chuckled once again, holding a hand to himself from the happy pain in his scarred chest. "I look forward to it."

 **NE** **W CAPRICA - Seven months later**

Though she'd never publicly admit it, Laura loved to watch Bill sleep.

Whether it was coming off a double duty shift in the CIC, a headache-induced meeting with Baltar, or post-coitus, he did it so well. He was completely at home in her tent. In her bed. In her life.

The admiral slept soundly, and peacefully. A slight smile upon his weathered face.

It was one of the few times she could look upon him without feeling like a dreamy-eyed teenager. That, and the fact that it gave her ample time to plot her next tickle attack upon his defenseless body.

He was so beautiful, laying there. Laura giggled quietly at the sight. She hated what she was about to do. Almost.

Tucking herself near his prone form, she watched as Bill's chest rose and fell.

Lightly, she touched him just below his navel. He stirred slightly and his sleeping smile deepened, but he did not wake. To laughter, or otherwise. Laura frowned.

Moving upward, she glided her hands over his middle. Admittedly, he had a tummy, and had confessed to have been working on it with sit-ups, but she really didn't care. His skin was smooth and warm, and always felt so good against her own. No matter the amount of padding beneath.

With care, she avoided the large red scar that marred the center of his chest, and the smaller one that jutted up from his lower abdomen. Such territory was off-limits from her current exploration. Touching the thick keloids could elicit sharp twinges of pain at times, or sensitivity at the least. So, much tenderness was called for in dealing with them. Neither scar was ever fodder for a tickle assault.

A sharp and sudden snore put Laura on guard, and caused her to pause.

Instead of waking, however, Bill merely shifted his position in the bed. Got more comfortable. And actually sighed a sigh of complete contentment, while still in a deep slumber.

William Adama was a snuggle bunny. Whodathunk?

He was also a bed hog, taking up most of the mattress space for himself. It was something she was guilty of being herself. Years of living and sleeping alone had done that to them both.

They'd been having an awful lot of fun getting used to each other.

While watching him sleep, Laura saw her chance. In his action of settling in, Bill had raised and tucked his left arm beneath his head and the pillow. His body lay stretched out, open and long. One armpit was fully exposed, and totally begged to be revenge tickled.

She wondered why she'd never thought of it before. Perhaps the territory had seemed too personal and too private to explore. Grinning at her mental catalogue of past potential sites; areas that included his toes, inner thighs, and even his testicles, Laura concluded that she'd merely overlooked the most obvious choice in exchange for seduction tactics.

Which, let's face it, was what this was originally about, anyway.

Stifling a giggle, Laura scooted closer to him. She placed herself precariously at the head of the narrow bed, balanced on her knees and beside Bill's upper half. Quietly, she watched as he continued to sleep.

"Honey?" Her tone had been but a whisper near his ear. "Are you... still... asleep? Because the Cylon raiders are coming in hot, and..." Instead of waking, the admiral kept on snoring. To which, Laura thanked the gods, and brushed a kiss to her lover's forehead.

He was so in for it.

Ignoring the beauty of his olive skin in the low light of the tent, Ms. Roslin neared her prey. The hollow of Bill's arm was slightly lighter in color, dusted with a soft thatch of wispy black hair, and, as she wrinkled her nose, was a tad bit stinky as well. But, mindful of her cause, she plodded on anyway.

Reaching across his body, Laura gently pinned his right wrist to the mattress with her left hand, and slowly caressed the side of his upper torso with her right. Mumbled words of Old Tauran tumbled from his mouth and caught her off-guard briefly, as she inched her way to her waiting target.

And then...

Finally...

YES!

No sooner had she applied her fingers to his vulnerable armpit, Bill's eyes flew open wide. Locked on with Laura's. He bucked. She straddled him. Held him between her knees with surprising strength, and somehow kept both of his arms and legs immobilized.

With a satisfied smirk on her lips, Laura continued to tickle him unmercifully.

She could feel her lover's pulse race. His radiant warmth. And the softness of his skin in such a private area.

"You," Bill managed, through gritted teeth.

Laura claimed him fully on the mouth. Enjoyed the sensation of his mustache as it pleasantly teased her upper lip. "MmmHmmm."

"This isn't... fair. Sweetheart... frak it all. Stop this... please!"

"How can I? Especially now that I found your secret spot."

"Please."

The man appeared apologetic. But it could all be a ruse. She continued her sweet torture until laughter rumbled from his chest, and tears streamed from the corners of his eyes.

"Do you say you're sorry? For embarrassing me months ago, with your Marines, Kara, and worst of all- my poor Billy?"

"Yes. I am sorry. Truly."

She kissed him again. He returned the favor. All the while she still held him.

"And you yield? Fully?"

"To you, Laura Roslin- always."

She caught the light in his eyes, and her resolve melted. "You planned this. Somehow. Gods, Bill. I thought for sure..."

"I'm a soldier. We're trained to bait the opposition. Lay in wait."

"And you let me-"

"Uh-huh." He reached up as best he could, and kissed the tip of her nose. "It hasn't been an easy operation. There were times in the past where you almost got me."

Without thinking, Laura loosened her grip on Bill. Felt his arms come around her, as they so often did. "Then why now?" she asked as he rolled them to their sides.

"Because I hated seeing you disappointed. And, because I love you."

"Mmmm."

"It's true."

"I know."

Bill felt her heavy sigh as she curled into him. The woman frequently grew quiet whenever he expressed his feelings for her. She was afraid. For all of her forward overtures to him, and her sexy wiles, Laura Roslin was afraid to confess what he knew to be true in her heart. But it was okay. He understood. Until her, he'd never been able to cross that line. In time, she'd get there with him.

So, until then, he played things light. "Would it make you feel better if a half dozen or so of your friends and neighbors barged in on us? Have 'em see me being schooled by the schoolteacher?"

"Maybe." Laura planted her chin on his chest and looked up at him with questioning green eyes.

"Okay, woman. You've got me. Do whatever you want. I'm yours." Bill rolled onto his back, and stretched his arms wide in preparation for her coming onslaught .

"Yes you are," Laura agreed throatily as she moved over him, dragging her hair slowly across his belly.

She made him cry and beg for mercy, once again...

But this time, he loved every minute of it.

 **THE WAY YONDER BAR - NEW CAPRICA - 2hrs later**

Kara Thrace knocked back another shot, and quickly refilled her glass from a bottle of home brew. Her husband of a little more than a month, Sam Anders, sat next to her at the small table, his face buried in his hands.

"Some things you just can't un-see, no matter how much you try."

Kara snorted. "Told ya guys. But did you listen? No! You had to go in there."

"It sounded serious," explained Cally Tyrol. "Who knew people that old could... well... um..."

"Frak?" Galen suggested sourly. He slapped one hand into another, in disgust. "I should've known better. Stupid, stupid me! When I was a kid, I once walked in on my parents.. they were performing some kind of... ritual."

Sam brightened, lifting his head up from the table. "Really?"

"Yeah. It was just, gross. They were all like, painted and... stuff." Galen shuddered. "They later told me they were trying for a baby brother or sister, for me. Which only made things worse."

"Painted, huh?" Sam wondered aloud. To Kara, "Babe, you got some paints back at our tent, right? Wanna try for a baby later?"

The blonde elbowed her husband in the ribs. Hard. "I'm just saying, what we just came in on was... something... I dunno, maybe a continuation, or payback, of what I saw months ago, on Colonial One." Kara downed another shot and closed her eyes tightly, from both the memory of the two leaders, and the taste of the rot gut in her mouth.

"Well, they both looked really happy. So there is that."

Galen kissed Cally sweetly. "My wife. The eternal romantic."

A rush of cool air came into the tent of the makeshift bar, accompanied by a short round of excited shouts. The two couples looked up to see who'd arrived, but there was little doubt. All things considered.

"Oh Gods," moaned Sam.

"Do you think either of them... saw us back at Roslin's tent?" Galen questioned.

Kara snorted. "Nope. They were way too busy."

The Admiral and the Schoolteacher made their way, together, as quietly as possible, through the busy establishment. Thankfully, Laura Roslin's teaching assistant, Maya Something-or-other, (Kara could never remember her last name) flagged them over to her table. The girl sat in the corner with her teething baby, and appeared quite relieved to see the famous couple. The Old Man eagerly claimed the fussy child in his arms and began distracting her by tickling her rosy pink cheeks, as Ms. Roslin looked on adoringly.

Cally felt her own child kick from within her swollen belly, and sighed. "Wouldn't it be cute if they had a kid of their own?"

Kara, Sam, and Galen all winced at the thought.

But then the former Viper-pilot gave it some thought, and pictured the admiral's son with a baby sibling peeing, pooping, or barfing all over him. Lee would have a cow, and that would be absolutely priceless.

"As long as I don't have to be there for the conception- or the delivery, I can totally drink to that!" Kara toasted the group with her raised shot glass.

#END#


End file.
